Strange but Wonderful
by bubbletoes
Summary: Emaline Darcy is the respectable daughter of a wealthly nobleman. She has manners and intelligence, and like any gentlewoman, despises pirates. That is, until she meets the dashing Capt. Jack Sparrow, who teaches her to love. R&R!!!!!
1. one

Title: Strange-but-Wonderful

Rating: PG -will go up later, I promise J 

Pairing: J/OC, maybe a little W/E

A/N: Alright guys, here goes nothing! This is my first ever fanfic, though I've been a reader for a looonnnggg time. I know that I have an original female character, but I will do my best to try to keep her from being too much of a Mary-Sue. I didn't describe her much in this chapter, because this one is set a point much farther into the plot, but I promise that she isn't perfectly beautiful and thin and saves the day. In fact, I'm planning on making her a bit of a spoiled, self-righteous brat, so hang with me ! After this chapter, the rest of the story will go in sequence, so I'm sorry if this confuses anybody. Please, I beg you, please review at the end of this story. I desperately crave feedback and need to know if this worth continuing or not. Also, I don't have a beta, so if you find spelling or grammar errors, please email me the corrections, if you're so inclined. Anyway, thanks for reading and remember to review!!! 

--Bubbletoes 

She watched as he haphazardly shoved items into a canvas knapsack, gathering together all of his worldly possessions. Articles of clothing, a spare knife, and some ancient maps, all of them unearthed from drawers and cabinets and being unceremoniously stored away. His movements were hurried, a bit frantic actually, and the constant flickering of his eyes spoke of uncertainty. The natural grace that he so casually wore was gone, replaced by fumbling fingers and a short, jerky stride. It was the first time that Emaline had ever seen him nervous, and it unsettled her a great deal. She longed to calm him, to go over and put her arms around him, stroking his chest and cooing softly in his ear. But she knew she hadn't the courage, and so did not dare.

"Jack," she called softly, cursing her cowardice. He didn't seem to hear her, for he continued to pack without so much as glance in her direction.

"Jack, love,"--louder this time-- "please, will you stop for a moment?" Jack turned to look at her, his face expectant. Emaline searched his eyes for a moment, hating how the dark charcoal pencil, which normally gave him an air of mystery and danger, glared unpleasantly against his unsure face. It was indeed strange to have him look like this, so uncertain; he should have mirth and mischief in his eyes and a pirate's smile splitting his face. Guilt pressed its ugly weight down upon her, and Emaline felt her heart contract.

"You do not have to marry me, you know," she blurted. " I am well aware what your freedom means to you, and would not dare to presume to take it from you. Therefore, I beg you consider yourself released from any obligation you feel to me, either because you took me to your bed or because you know how deeply I care for you. Rest assured, I would bear you no ill will were you to break this off," Emaline's voice softened to barely a whisper and she cast her eyes to the floor. "Your happiness is more important to me than anything, and I could not bear to be your burden."

It was silent for a moment, and then a great rumble of laughter filled the cabin. Jack had his head thrown back, and his entire body shook with his laugh, a laugh that only a true pirate could have. Eyes filled with tears, Emaline looked at him with shock. He was _laughing_ at her? Had his entire proposal been a joke, or was this simply a bad dream? She did not know, but prayed with all her heart it was the latter, and that she would soon wake up, wrapped safely in the real Jack's arms. After a moment, the laughter subsided, and Jack looked at her quizzically.

"What on God's green earth made you think I didn't want to marry you? Do you think I'm such a scalawag that I would even _consider_ asking you to marry me if I didn't mean it? Believe me, lass, I am just as aware of what freedom means to me as you are, and nothing but the very deepest love would induce me to take an action that would jeopardize it. Namely, marrying you. I may joke about a lot of things, Emma, but I thought _you_ could at least discern when I'm being serious."

Emaline's shock quickly turned to anger and she fired back at him. "How was I supposed to know? First, you propose to me in front of at least ten British officers who were trying to take over your ship and take me away in the process. I accept you, then you tell the officers that the both of us will journey back to England _with them, _and proceed to turn the _Black Pearl _over to Mr. Jefferys, telling him to act as captain until you manage to return. This ship is your life, Jack, and you would sooner become a eunuch than turn it over, even to a man you trust! And if that was not enough, we come back to your cabin to gather your belongings, and you act more nervous, uncertain, and upset than I have ever seen you be, and quite frankly, ever thought you _could _be. So, I ask that you _excuse me_ for so wrongfully construing your behavior as an indication that you were having doubts about marrying me, or that you were even seriously considering it in the first place!" She drew a deep breath, and dared him to laugh at her again, and judging by the look of his face, it seemed quite probable that he would. 

Setting his jaw to keep from laughing, Jack walked over to Emaline and pulled her into his arms. His eyes sparkled for a moment as he glanced at her; face flushed from yelling and her hair a wavy mess. He watched with interest as her emotions played across her face, anger and forgiveness both battling to come out on top. Before she could choose, Jack brought his hand to her face, and softly caressed her cheek.

" I'm sorry, love," he said sincerely. "A right bastard, I am. Should have known you'd pick up my bad mood and think something was wrong. You were right, I am a bit nervous, but it's nothing important. I still want to marry you."

For the second time that day, Emaline was shocked beyond words. It was all she could do to snuggle closer into Jack' shoulder and try to show him that she forgave him without having to speak. An apology? From Capt. Jack Sparrow? Her mind was reeling, unable to absorb it all. But it had happened. A few months ago, Ms. Emaline Darcy would have said that such a thing was completely impossible, that Satan was more likely go ice-skating in Hell than Jack Sparrow give a sincere apology. Yet then again, that Ms. Darcy would have said the same to herself and the notorious pirate Jack Sparrow having a relationship at all, much less being engaged to be married Emma smiled into Jack's shirt, thinking of how the whole strange-but-wonderful mess had happened in the first place….


	2. two

The _Expectation_, one of the crown jewels of His Majesty's Royal Navy, sliced through the misty Atlantic waters with her sails full of wind. Waves beat against her sides with a life of their own, seeming to want nothing more than to tear the vessel apart and send her to the depths below. Or so it appeared to one Emaline Darcy, who stood at the prow of the ship tightly gripping the handrail.

Emaline watched the rolling waves with fascination, glad that she had finally overcome her seasickness and was now able to observe the ship's progress without instantly becoming nauseous. It was, however, one of the few things she found reason to rejoice over, for there was a whole week left before they reached the island of St. Croix, and she was more bored than she could ever remember being in her entire life. True, the captain had informed her that they would reach a port by nightfall, but as the crew was simply going to pick up supplies, she was not to be allowed to go ashore. Emaline had wanted to protest against this, but the captain had made his decision, and no woman of good breeding and manners would dare to a man's judgment. And Emaline herself was the female incarnation of breeding, manners, and all other aspects of a gentlewoman's behavior. 

Her father would not have her any other way, of course. Charles Darcy was one of the richest men in England, and universally respected as a man of the highest honor. Consequently, his children would be expected to enhance their father as much as possible, and Emaline had risen to the occasion astonishingly well. But she was by no means her father's favorite. No, that would be her elder sister Claire, who not only possessed manners of the highest quality, but who was also beautiful to point of impossible. Indeed, many who laid eyes on Claire thought her to be an ethereal goddess, too breathtakingly beautiful to be a mere mortal woman. It was not as though Emaline did not possess a certain beauty of her own, but she was simply no match to the incomprehensible Clair, or indeed, many of the other ladies at court. 

She was short, and stocky from her hips down, with muscular--though bulky--thighs and calves. Her waist was trim, her shoulders and arms were slender, but her breasts were the size of small apples, which she found to be grossly unfair, as she had the large hips and buttocks that were normally accompanied by a voluptuous chest. Her skin was clear and fashionably pale, her eyes were a deep blue, and her features were attractive enough, if only for their normalcy. Emaline's hair, however, was an entirely different story. It was the color of molten bronze, with streaks of gold running through it, and it was simply of mass of thick, wavy curls that fell to her waist. In England, her hair had been somewhat manageable, but the humidity of the Atlantic had caused it be so unruly that it could barely be braided, let alone styled. But whatever she lacked in physical appearance, Emaline made up for in intelligence, or at least so _she_ believed.

Intellectual pursuit was, in fact, the purpose of her journey to the Caribbean. It had taken a great deal of convincing, both from herself and her tutor, Mrs. King, to finagle her father into agreeing to pay for the excursion. Emaline had a great passion for animal and plant wildlife, and there were many new species being discovered in the New World that were not known of back in England. She was to stay with the governor of St. Croix for six months, during which she was to visit His Majesty's New World Library, and observe Britain's top biologists as they classified and studied the numerous species. A smile crept across Emaline's face and her eyes became slightly unfocussed as she planned al of the wonderful things she would do upon reaching St. Croix. She was so immersed in her daydreams that she jumped when she heard a voice speak her name.

Quickly, she turned around and nearly slammed into a Mr. Peter Wyndham. Her smile quickly grew, even as she softly spoke an apology. Right before her stood her ideal match, and her heart fluttered softly. Peter Wyndham was handsome, with fair hair and light eyes, and a smile that could charm anyone. He was extremely intelligent, and as the son of a duke, extremely rich. Emaline had first seen him at court and had liked him very much, but he was one of Claire's many admirers' and so she had quickly given up on him. That is, until she learned that he would be traveling to the Caribbean on the same ship that she was on. Over the course of the journey, they had gotten to know each other extremely well, and Emaline thought herself to be dangerously close to falling in love with the man.

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you," Peter said politely, and turned to leave.

"It does not follow that the disruption is unwelcome. Please, join me if that is your wish. I do not mind the company," she answered and smiled at him again.

"I should hope not," he said, returning her smile. He moved forward to stand next to her and was silent for a moment, as Emaline basked in the glow of his nearness.

"Tell me, Ms. Darcy, what do you know of Port Royal?" he asked.

"Not much, sir. Simply that the captain said we are to dock there for the night."

" Yes, we are. And thank goodness it is for only _one _night, for the place is swarming with pirates this time of year. The filthy creatures, I hate the sight of them."

"As do I, sir." This was not entirely true, for Emaline had never seen a pirate, but she held them in the greatest contempt all the same. As far as she was concerned, they were the lowest, vilest form of life on the planet, and deserved nothing less than to justly hang for their crimes. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her.

"I was not aware that there were pirates in Port Royal," she continued. " I see now why Capt. Foster was so adamant in his refusal to allow me to go ashore. I have no place among pirates, though I should dearly love to stretch my legs a bit on solid ground."

Peter was quiet a moment, and then said: " I suppose I could persuade the captain to give you leave to come ashore, if he and I were to accompany you at all times. I daresay you should be quite safe with the both of us there to protect you. What do you say, Ms. Darcy?"

"I say that you are a very kind and thoughtful man, Mr. Wyndham, and I accept your proposition," said Emaline with joy.

"Very well, I will speak to the captain directly. Shall I escort you back down to your cabin?"

"No, I believe I shall stay here a bit longer, thank you. Good day, Mr. Wyndham."

"Good day, Ms. Darcy."

As soon as he was out of earshot, Emaline let out a soft sigh and fairly collapsed against the handrail. He was such an agreeable man, so kind, and so handsome, too… She felt her cheeks flush, and giggled softly. Oh, she had an entire evening with Peter to look forward to, plus the prospect of being on land for the first time in months. Emaline felt like singing at the top of her lungs, she was so ecstatic. This night was going to be perfect, but she still put in a small prayer that she wouldn't meet any pirates.


	3. three

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I forgot one at the beginning. I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, including Jack Sparrow and any of the other aspects of the movie. Any other characters not in the movie are of my own creating , but feel free to use them if you want, I would be flattered!!

A/N: Here's Chapter 3, it's a bit shorter than I planned, but I decided the break this part up into two sections because otherwise it would have been waaayyy to long. Thank you to everyone who had reviewed, your comments mean the world to me and inspire me to write. And for those of you who have been waiting, this is the chapter where Emaline meets Jack, so yayayayayay!!! Please continue to review, and again, sorry about my spelling!!

~***~***~***~

Peter Wyndham looked out across the bay as the small rowboat slowly inched its way toward shore. The lights of Port Royal glittered against the darkening sky, and his heart rejoiced at the prospect of walking on land again. He breathed in the thick, moist air, and chanced a glance at Ms. Darcy. She looked almost lovely in this light, with her hair swept up and wearing such a very fashionable, elegant dress. She reminded him of home, of parties and wine and fine food, but not, strangely enough, of Claire.

When he had first learnt that Emaline Darcy would be joining him on the voyage, he had thought of her as nothing more than a very poor substitute for the charms of her far more attractive sister. Oh, how his thought's had changed! Emaline was every bit as obliging as her sister, and though nowhere near as beautiful, there was a wit and intelligence about her that he found most pleasing. Peter enjoyed their conversations more than he cared to admit, and when he thought of Emaline, he often made no connection between her and the beauteous Claire, whom he had thought himself madly in love with.

There had even been a few times when he had considered asking Emaline to marry him, though he quickly squelched the idea as soon as it popped into his head. He may find her very pleasing in these circumstances, but was quite sure that when they returned to England, he would again become immersed in Claire and his feelings for Emaline would fade. They would become common and indifferent acquaintances, nothing more and nothing less. Peter's conscience pricked at this, but he knew that Emaline would deal with it very well. She knew as well as he that a match between them would be ludicrous, and besides, the girl would be so occupied by her studies that any thoughts of him would be easily forgotten.

Peter let out a sigh, and turned his attention back to sea before him. He would dwell on Emaline no longer. For now, he would enjoy her smiles, and see where the wind would take him.

~***~***~***~

The company reached the shore and docked the boat with little hassle at all. For Emaline, it was actually exiting the boat the proved difficult. The many layers and heavy material of her skirts caused her to be off balance, and her corset demanded that all movements were small and required as little breath as possible. Finally, with the assistance of Mr. Wyndham, she stepped onto the sand. Emaline breathed in a sigh of relief, and proceeded to look around her. The landscape was beautiful, unlike anything she had ever seen before. White sand spread in every direction, and lush plants swayed in the light breeze.

As the group started forward, she got her first look of the people who inhabited this emerald paradise. Emaline saw men for the most part, more than she would have expected to be out at this hour. Some were British officers dressed in fine red regimentals, but most looked to be sailors, slightly scruffy and dirty, but not sinister enough to be pirates, surely.

Capt. Foster and his men left herself and Peter together for a moment, as they went to speak to the officers and learn the news from England. The two of them were silent, each absorbed in their own thoughts, but they stood close together, taking comfort in the steadying presence of the other in place they were both unsure of. The captain returned after a few minutes with worry etched across his old face. When Peter inquired after the officers' news, Capt. Foster simply said that there had been a few pirate raids, and that there was nothing to fear, though the tone of his voice said otherwise.

Again, they pushed onward, but with the captain clearly leading this time and his men seeming to flank Emaline and Peter on either side. Their pace had also quickened, and Emaline had trouble keeping up, as her corset was severely restricting her breathing. Still they pressed forward, up the main street now, with Capt. Foster casting his eyes about as if he were searching for someone. Just when Emaline was sure that she could go no farther, the company came to an abrupt halt.

The captain took a step away from the group and called out to a man who stood leaning against a building, a three-corner hat pulled down over his eyes.

" Oh, a pirate may be a drunk,

He may be a scoundrel,

He may be without a plan…."

Captain Foster spoke the words clearly, almost putting a tune behind them, and then waited silently, as if he expected the man to answer him.

A voice like rich, smooth honey filled the air.

" But you cannot judge a pirate,

Because many are a good sort of man,

Yo-ho, my laddie, yo-ho,

A good sort of man!"

The man from the building looked up, and Emaline's breath caught in her throat. Before her, no more than ten feet away, stood the most realistic looking pirate she had ever dreamed of seeing. It seemed as though Peter thought the same thing, for she felt him tense behind her and take in a sharp breath.

The pirate walked toward their group, if one could call what he did walking. Indeed, he seemed to swagger and glide more than walk, and his smirk glittered in the moonlight, suggesting that there was gold inlaid on his teeth. He was tall and seemed strong, though his build was rather lean. He had a good deal of dark hair, long and laying in large chunks instead of single strands. A sword swung at his side, and he had a pistol tucked into his belt. But the most remarkable thing about him were his eyes, which shown out from his tanned face. The irises were as black as the pupils, and his lids were lined with a charcoal pencil. Those eyes gave him a strange look; a mix of mystery, shrewdness, and an overall passion for danger. 

Emaline believed that she had never seen a man who was more of a contradiction, for as much as his eyes were burningly intense, his manner was light and carefree. He fixed his eyes upon each one of their party as he approached, a sardonic little smile on his face. When his gaze fell on her, Emaline felt a shiver run down her spine and knot form in her belly. She held his eyes for only a moment, and then forced herself to look away. His eyebrow quirked at this, but she did not see it. Finally, he reached Capt. Foster, and gave him an eccentric bow.

" He who speaks the pass-words had my full attention. Capt. Jack Sparrow at your service, Foster."


	4. four

Chapter 4

A/N: Okay, this one's a bit longer than the others, so yay for me!! There is a lot of dialogue in this chapter, and I'm having a really hard time trying to write Jack correctly. So if you have any suggestions, please let me know! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, you are great, wonderful, excellent people and you have my undying affection. Please, keep it up! And sorry about any spelling and typing errors. : )

"Capt. Jack Sparrow at your service, Foster."

The pirate stepped forward and grabbed Capt. Foster's hand, shaking it thoroughly and practically pulling him into a hug. 

" Ah, Capt. Sparrow, you cannot begin to imagine how happy I am to find you here… How are you, lad? Enjoying your stay in Port Royal, I daresay."

Jack's smile split into a cocky grin, and his eyes twinkled. "How did you guess? But then, I'm sure that you know as well as I do that there be some of the best _female company _in the Caribbean to be had on this here island. '

Capt. Foster, remembering the presence of two high-ranking members of English society, had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Yes, well…"he stuttered, his cheeks as red as an officer's uniform.

Noticing the captain's obvious discomfort, Jack frowned slightly. Capt. Foster was not normally the sort of man to go red in the face, especially about something so trivial as prostitutes. Confused, he turned his attention back to the captain's accompaniment, and looked them all over again. This time, Jack seemed to take in the blatant meaning behind Ms. Darcy and Mr. Wyndham's fine dress and haughty manner. Raising his eyebrows, Capt. Sparrow clapped his hands together and looked at Foster

"Well, as much as I would love to stay here and chat, I am a bit busy at the moment. So if there was something you were wanting, Foster…"

"Ah, yes," said Capt. Foster, seeming greatly relieved at the change in subject matter. "If you would be so kind as to step aside with me for a second, I will soon let you be on your way."

The two men walked over to the building were Jack had been standing, and looked to be having a very serious conversation.

" What does the captain mean by this, talking to a foul pirate as if they he was any normal man?" Peter asked Foster's men, a touch of anger in his voice. Emaline was relieved, for she had been thinking the same thing, and had hoped that someone would explain it.

A man by the name of Tibbs answered him. "Beggin' your pardon, sir, but Capt. Jack Sparrow is about as close as it comes to a decent pirate. The man has more gold than Midas, but he never kills anybody to get it if he can help it.. Not that I condone his stealing, but it's better than him being a bloodthirsty fiend like most of them other pirate captains. He may be a bit off his rocker, but Capt. Sparrow's a good man."

" I fail to see how _any_ man can be a pirate and a good person at the same time," said Peter icily. "But you did not answer my question, Mr. Tibbs. _Why_ is Capt. Foster speaking with that piece of slime?"

"It's like this, sir. A few years ago, Capt. Foster came upon Sparrow while he was out at sea. The little one-man boat Sparrow was on had sprung a leak, and he was up to his knees in water. Capt. Foster recognized him right away from all the wanted posters he had seen with Sparrow's picture on them, but he gave him a lift anyway. He said he just didn't have it in him to let a man drown, no matter who he was. The captain took him to the nearest port, and let him go his own way. But before he left, Sparrow gave Foster his word that the captain would forever have his services for anything he needed. And he's stayed true to his word, or so Capt. Foster says. He won't tell us details, just that Sparrow's helped him out a few times and that he greatly respects him, pirate or no pirate."

"How touching," spat Peter. Mr. Tibbs simply looked at him, before turning back to the other men.

"Can you believe this outrage, Ms. Darcy?" Peter asked Emaline, his eyes burning like fire.

"No, sir," she answered truthfully. "I thought Capt. Foster far too good of a man to be mixed up with someone like that Sparrow fellow.

"Aye, so did I. I've completely lost all the respect I had for Foster. When we reach St. Croix, I'm going to refer him to the martial court straight away. To help a man like Jack Sparrow is bad enough, but stay acquainted with him is simply mad. Why, just look at him. He has to be the _ugliest_ piece of vermin to have ever claimed to be a man. Disgusting, don't you agree?"

"Yes," Emaline said, though with a good deal less conviction. "Disgusting."

~***~***~***~

"So, what's with the trollop and her fruitcake? Don't tell me they're passengers of yours." Capt. Jack Sparrow leaned against the wall with one hand, and fingered his pistol with the other. This was turning out to be a very interesting night, if he did say so himself. First, Madame Bingley's House of Pleasure was having a half-off special, and now good old Foster had turned up out of nowhere and wanted to talk to him.

"Yes, I'm afraid they are," Capt. Foster sighed. "As a matter of fact, they--or really, just the girl-- are what I need to talk to you about."

"Well go right ahead, mate. Though I don't see what I have to do with either of them."

"I don't know if you're aware or not, but I've heard rumors that there is a massive attack being planned by all of the Gullah pirates. I don't know how much truth there is in this, but I checked all the ships docked here as we were coming ashore, and I'd say more than forty have the Gullah symbol burned into them."

"Aye, I know something of it," said Jack, his demeanor becoming much more serious. Gullah's were an elite, deadly band of pirates, and they were not something to take lightly. "But the attack is not supposed to be until later in the week, and I plan to leave long before that. Tomorrow, if possible."

" I know, we plan to leave tomorrow as well. But I am still worried, because I have to go to the merchants market and get supplies before we leave, and there are far more pirates about than I would like. I don't know why, but I just have a feeling that the attack is going to be tonight. Maybe I've been around pirates too much and I'm starting to think like them. But it just makes more sense, that they would go ahead and do it tonight, because that way they have both the numbers _and_ the element of surprise. Anyway, in the event that there is an attack, and something happens to me, I want _you_ to make sure that the girl comes to no harm."

"Me?" asked Jack, clearly surprised. He was not exactly the best choice to look after a woman, especially one who appeared as witless as that one did. "Why can't you ask some of the officers to take care of her? And besides, she's got that man with her. He'll look out for her."

"Jack, don't be ridiculous," said Capt. Foster, sounding slightly irritated. "You know perfectly well that 'fruitcake', as you called him, doesn't stand a chance against one Gullah, let alone a great hoard of them. And as for the officers, they will be in as much danger as she is. No, my boy, I'm afraid you're the only one fit for the job."

" I don't know, Foster. Look at me, I'm not exactly a ladies maid. That girl would no sooner come with me than she would go with any other pirate, savvy? I know her type, they hate pirates as much as they hate the French, and that's saying something. And why would you care what happens to the little chit, anyway?"

"First, that girl is the daughter of Charles Darcy, who is perhaps the most powerful man in England, save for the King. If she would were to go missing, do you know how many more ships the King would send down here? You and your crew would be caught and hung before you could wink. And secondly, call me crazy if I can't stand the thought of the poor girl being tortured by the Gullah's."

At that, Jack looked over at the girl, and felt a wave of nausea rise at the mental picture of the innocent young thing being raped by pirates. Unlike most of his kind, Jack had no stomach for taking anything a woman was not willing to give. The thought alone was enough to get him to agree.

Capt. Foster beamed at him, and vigorously shook his hand. "It may all come to nothing," he said, his voice much lighter. "I may be completely off on this, but still, I like to take precautions. Thank you, Jack. I know that I can trust you. Oh, and if I don't see you again, enjoy Madame Bingely's and tell your crew I said hello." Foster turned to leave.

"Wait, Foster," Jack called, remember something that he had been meaning to ask. "What's the chit's name? She'll be more likely to come with me if I know her name."

Capt. Foster smiled. He knew that could trust Jack, though he prayed it wouldn't come down to that. Still, it was nice to see him taking charge, and treating his promise seriously.

"Her name is Emaline."


	5. five

Chapter 5

A/N: My longest chapter to date, so yippee!!! FYI: the PG-13 rating comes into effect for some minor swear words, so you have been warned. Also, the rating will be going up to R, I promise, but it just won't be for a while. As much as I would love to, I can't bring myself to just throw these two into bed, so sorry about the wait for lemon. But there is a bit of a kiss in this one!!! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you are great! Please keep it up, I LIVE FOR FEEDBACK, positive or negative, so long as it's constructive! Thanks again and enjoy : )

Emaline woke with a start, her head throbbing quite painfully. Her vision was blurry at best, and her brains felt as though they were made of lumpy porridge. She had taken a spill, that much was certain, but she was at loss as to where she was. Racking her brains, she came up with a fuzzy image of walking arm and arm into a building with Peter Wyndham, accompanied by Capt. Foster and his men. But if she had, then why were they not above her, anxiously waiting for her to recover? Puzzled, Emaline moved to sit op, tenderly putting more weight onto her slender arms. A soft moan escaped her lips, as a sudden and painful rush of blood went to her head.

"Oh, Lord…" she murmured, before a strange hand came out from behind her back and closed harshly over her mouth. Extremely frightened, Emaline thrashed her arms and screamed, a truly blood-curling sound that could have been easily distinguished from more than a mile away had it not been muffled. Whoever held her mouth shook her roughly, and hissed into her ear.

"Quiet, lass. You'll not be doing that again if you want to go on living." Emaline's eyes went huge, but she stopped struggling. It was a man's voice that had spoken to her, but then, she'd already assumed as much by the roughly calloused hand that was smashed painfully against her lips. Her fear was paralyzing and she felt as though a large boulder had been dropped into her stomach, but the shock seemed to have cleared up her eyes. Looking around desperately for help, Emaline took in the scene before her for the first time.

It was a massacre. Bodies were strewn about, and blood ran in rivers along the floor. The color red was everywhere, for along with the deep red of coagulating blood was the vibrant crimson of officer uniforms. Across the room, far away from the darkened corner she occupied, stood two men. They were guzzling rum and laughing, spewing the amber liquid all over the corpses on the ground. Bile rose up into her throat, and she clutched her stomach, preparing to retch all over the floor and praying that the man behind her would release her mouth. As she looked down, her breathing stopped, as she looked into the face of Peter Wyndham. His skin was pale, his eyes closed, and a great gash ran across his forehead, though his matted blond hair obscured it. He looked dead, and Emaline felt a vice go around her heart. Terrified at what she was sure to find, she forced herself to look at his chest. Barely, just barely, it expanded under her gaze, and then went back to its former size. Her heart soared. _Peter was alive! _ She leaned forward, hand extended as though she meant to touch him, but she was pulled roughly back.

"Leave him, girl. You can do nothing for him." There was the voice again, but it was softer and less frightening this time. "Listen to me very carefully. I'm going to try to get you away from here, but you must do exactly as I say. There is a door about ten feet from here; that is our goal. The both of us are going to walk over to it, as close to the wall as possible. I will keep my hand over your mouth, but you must not struggle. If they hear us, it will be the end of you."

Emaline nodded. She had no choice but trust this man, whoever he was. Slowly, they started walking. Each step took an eternity, and even the slightest sound made her heart lurch with agony. Finally, they reached the door, and the man turned the handle. CREAK!!!! The handle practically screamed under the pressure, and the two men's heads whipped around. Wasting no time, her rescuer pushed her through the door, even as the other men came running, pistols firing bullets that whipped by their heads. The man broke into a run, and dragged Emaline along with him. She kept up for a moment, but her corset would not allow her to breath, and she began to lag behind. Without even breaking his stride, the man scooped her up into his arms. The scenery flew by, as her savior serpentined through alleyways with almost inhuman speed. 

Finally convinced that they'd lost them, the man began to slow his pace. He stopped abruptly and unceremoniously dropped Emaline to the ground. Leaning against wall, he threw a hand over his chest and breathed deeply, arching his back. Emaline looked at her savior with disbelief. The man who had rescued her was none other than Capt. Jack Sparrow, the pirate whom Capt. Foster had been speaking with earlier in the evening. She was so confused, the emotional shock of the evening was wearing off, and her head was swimming with images and feelings that she could not place. At the moment, Emaline felt torn between being thankful for her rescue and disgusted that such filth had deigned himself worthy to touch her, let alone carry her in his arms. Frustrated with her situation and emotionally shattered, she did the only thing she could think to do. She screamed.

Jack was on her in a second, trying to force his hand over her mouth to stop the ungodly sound. But Emaline was in the throws of a tantrum, and she clawed and bit and kicked at him until his hands bled. He was at loss as to what to do. The eyes of many a pirate were on them now, and he could not fight them all off if they choose to "relieve" him of the girl. They would kill him for sure, and then the chit would be lost to the Gullahs. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. Grabbing both of her hands and forcing them to the wall, Jack covered her mouth with his own.

Her screaming ceased immediately, and he actually felt a ripple of shock go through her. She stood completely still, not even attempting to push him off. "_Probably too horrified to do anything_," he thought. _"I'll give it a second, she'll come to her senses soon enough." _And he was right. As if she'd just woken up from a terrible dream, Emaline thrashed against him with all her might. It did her little good, Jack just held her tighter, but she did manage to poke him the ribs a couple of times with the whalebones in her corset. "_Christ, all this and me not even kissing her properly. Stupid bint, God knows what I'd be in for if I stuck my tongue into her mouth." _ Actually, the idea was quite appealing, what with the way she was thrusting against him and all. If she kept that up, she was likely to get, not to mention _feel_, a lot more of him than she bargained for.

Belatedly, Jack realized that his "kiss" had accomplished its purpose. The Gullahs had let them be, keeping to the unspoken rule that no pirate had any right to interfere with a man while he was in the throws of passion. A tad bit reluctant to stop to all her writhing beneath him, he held her lips a little longer than absolutely necessary before releasing her. A kick to the groin was swift to follow.

"You pretentious pig, you vile, loathsome, dis-gusting creature!" Emaline exploded as he double over and fell to the ground. "How dare you touch me?! How dare you defile my pure person with your foul mouth?! I will have you hanged for this, I swear to high heaven I will have you hanged, and I will relish your death!"

On his feet, though still tenderly cupping himself, Jack simply smiled at her. "Hush, lass. You're embarrassing me with all your bad language. Wouldn't want anyone to think that I've gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd, if you catch my meaning."

That shut her up, but the looks she was shooting at him were pure venom. God, how he hated Foster. The bastard had tricked him into this, damn him, and now he had a prissy creampuff to look after. How perfectly peachy. He looked to Emaline, who was still fuming and about as red as a ripe tomato. 

"Here's the deal, girl. As of right now, you're precious captain Foster is nowhere to be found, and your little fruitcake is likely dead. By morning, these pirates will have weeded out every officer on the island, and will have taken anybody else captive. You have exactly two choices. A, you come quietly with me to my ship and I take you to closest safe port, or B, you stay here and let the Gullah's have their way with you. Either way, you're stuck trusting pirates. Although," Jack paused here, and blatantly looked her body up and down, "the Gullah's might treat you a bit better than the average whore, on account of the fact that you've obviously got good blood. But then again, most pirates don't care much for blood, except when it be spilling out of a body."

Oh, God in Heaven. How on earth was she supposed to make such a choice? Emaline could barely believe that all of this was actually happening, how could she possibly be expected to choose which group of pirates got to kill her? True, Capt. Sparrow was making it sound as though _he _would do no such thing, but that was because he wanted her to go with him, and was thus manipulating the situation to his benefit. Consequently, she could not trust what seemed to be his obvious opinion of the matter. And if she came right down to it, she was actually less inclined to go with him than to stay here, what with the way he had already violated her. But then again, she had heard atrocious stories about Gullah pirates.

Trying to avoid having to answer, Emaline asked him a question instead. "Why are you helping me? Why did you go through all the trouble to save me, when you could have been killed in the process? Truly, I see no advantage in it for you."

"Must there always be an advantage?" he asked wearily.

"Of course. You are a pirate, after all," she replied with conviction.

"Yes, I suppose that is true." Jack said after a moment. "But in any case, I cannot tell you why I'm helping you, only that I am, and you may do what you will with that.

"But why can you not tell me?" she practically whined, frustrated beyond belief.

"I'm surprised at you, lass. You seem to know so much about pirates, and yet you can't seem to figure this out. Well, I'll give you a hint--because that would be telling, and pirates never tell."

"You're insufferable," she spat furiously at him.

"Make your decision."

She was silent for what seemed like an eternity, and Jack was getting a bit edgy. It was getting late, and the sooner he got her to the ship, the sooner they could leave. Finally, Emaline spoke.

"I shall go with you. Capt. Foster seemed to trust you; therefore, so will I. I only hope he was as excellent a judge of character as his men believed him to be."

"I wise decision, lass." Jack nodded to her. "So I take it you know who I am, then?"

"How could I forget that introduction?" It was not a compliment. "You're Capt. Jack Sparrow, one of the most notorious, and frankly, rotten-smelling pirates to have ever cursed the planet."

Jack grinned like a Cheshire cat, showing all of his teeth. "Don't start complimenting me, or I might actually think you liked that kiss I gave you. Care for another go, sweet Emaline?"

"Why, you…" she started, surprised at how easily this man had turned her from a docile creature to vicious cat in less than an hour.

"Pig," Jack finished for her. "Yes, I know. Now, shall we be on our way, Ms. Darcy?" He gallantly held out his arm, but she refused it with a sniff of her nose. Feigning mock insult, he led the way, with Emaline close behind. She hadn't yet figured out that he knew her name, but he imagined that eventually she would hit it. Sure enough, her heard her voice in his ear, politer than he would have imagined it could be. Walking must have calmed her down a bit, and she seemed to have remembered her station.

"Begging your pardon, but how do you know my name?"

"It's like I said before, lass. That would be telling, and pirate's never tell."


	6. six

Strange but Wonderful

A/N: Finally!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm so sorry it took me so long to update (over a week!!) but I've been crazily busy. School starts soon, and I have three summer projects to finish, plus Academic Decatholon meetings to go to, and I need to get my horse out at least four times a week. Add on to that my 16th birthday on Wed., a computer that won't access the internet, and a chapter that took FOREVER to write, and you have the recipie for disaster. Thanks to everyone for being so patient, I appreciate it, and I promise that next week I will update more if at all possible. Also, (I know I say this every time, but it's true!) THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWS, or even reads my story. I live for your feedback, and am glad that there are people are enjoying this as much as I am!! Thanks again, and ENJOY~~*!

Chapter Six

The streets of Port Royal were dank and dreary, crowded with vermin of every sort and practically reeking of death. The shops that ran along the main street had been raided, and their broken windows shone out into the night like twisted, toothless smiles. In the distance, fine houses burned into ashes, leaving the families that occupied them cowering in the chill night air. The fires served to illuminate areas of the port, making all the activity seem as though it were some kind of garish circus.

Emaline walked through all of this in a kind of daze, her eyes open but refusing to focus on the horror around her. She stayed as close to Capt. Sparrow as she could without breaching the bounds of common decency, although why she sought to maintain such bounds in these circumstances was beyond her. The catastrophic events of the evening had rendered her incapable of any independent thought, and thus she was relying on what had been breed into since she was old enough to walk. Once she had consented to go with Jack Sparrow, she knew that she would follow his orders implicitly; he may be the worst kind of scoundrel, but he was still a man, and with that came her proper obedience. She was heartily ashamed of her early behavior towards him, being outspoken and confrontational was completely out of character for her. Emaline was by no means a strong-minded woman, though she was very intelligent. For her, quiet observation and internal analysis were far more rewarding than a public display of opinion. This was a very sought after quality in a woman, and she had been praised for it numerous times. In fact, Peter Wyndham had been most impressed with her in that respect....

She stopped cold, her hazy mind violently throwing an image of Peter before her. She had left him to die in that room with no great protest, her only concern being for her own worthless neck. _She had let him die. No,no,no,no,no....._Falling to her knees, she gulped down air, trying desperately to fill her aching lungs. Sobs racked her body, and she began to shiver uncontrollably. With great effort, Emaline clasped her hands together and began to pray fervently for forgiveness.

Jack watched her with fascination. He had been expecting this reaction, it was inevitable that she would have an emotional breakdown after all she'd been through. But there was something strange about actually witnessing it take place. The girl looked like a fallen angel, bathed in moonlight and the glittering red of the fires, her posture so abject and yet still so poised. Jack felt a great swell of pity rise in his heart, an emotion he had truly felt for no one but himself for longer than he could remember. It was disconcerting, to say the least. He barely knew this chit, and yet he wanted so badly to help. The urge to comfort her was overwhelming, but he quickly crushed it. He had little knowledge of how to calm hysterical women, and she would not welcome his help anyway. All he could do was wait her out, and hope that she could make it to the Pearl before having another conniption.

After a few minutes, Emaline got unsteadily to her feet, wiping at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. She felt horrible, and dirty beyond ever becoming clean, but the praying had served to calm her nerves and she felt somewhat normal again. Looking around for Capt. Sparrow, she spotted him standing a few feet away and watching her curiously. Anger boiled inside her at his seemingly indifferent attitude, at the way he was acting as though she were nothing more than some mildly entertaining creature at a zoo. A true gentleman would have rushed to her side immediately and offered any assistance he could to ease her suffering. But then, Emaline was quite sure that Jack Sparrow would be the first to admit that he was no gentleman.

"Are you finished?" he asked her plainly.

"Yes," she answered coldly, wanting desperately to add that it was no thanks to him.

"Well, then we should get on. My ship's just up there, it's the one with the black sails. I'll get you aboard, and then we can leave this godforsaken island."

"Wait, aren't we to go to the _Expectation_ first and get my things? You can hardly expect to drop me off in a strange port with only the clothes on my back."

Actually, this was exactly what Jack was expecting to do. They did not have time for such frivolous endeavors, and her said as much to her. Needless to say, the statement did not go over well.

"But, I cannot simply leave my things. It could be days before we reach a port, and common decency alone demands that I have clothing that is both clean and modest. This dress is torn about my shoulders and already I feel like the worst of immoral women. Even a man as base as yourself should see the cruelty in forcing me to stay exposed in such a manner!" Emaline's voice was quiet and mellow, but she spoke her words with such absolute conviction that she almost cracked the stone of Jack's resolve.

"Listen, girl," he sighed exasperatedly. " We can't just go waltzing up to your ship-- the Gullah's will have taken it by now , and they don't take kindly to trespassers, savvy? I'd be killed for sure, and then were would you be? Not safely home in England were a trollop such as yeself belongs, I warrant."

Emaline was close to tears again. "But is there not _something_ you can do?" Her voice sounded like fragile glass, and she seemed likely to collapse. Goddamit, the last thing he needed right now was another crying session.

"Stop your blubbering, all this whining is like to make me throw up!" The words were harsher than he meant them to be, but Jack was not the type of person whose people skills blossomed under stress. The hurt in Emaline's eyes because of his statement was obvious, and she looked very confused. "_She's not used to havin' a man be so direct, mate. You need to tone it down a bit, she'll learn the real ways of the world soon enough." _ Feeling like he ought to say something helpful, Jack spoke. "I can't go get your things from the boat, but I can_ borrow_ a few items from one of these stores. There's bound to be something there that'll fit you."

"You mean to steal?" said Emaline, her voice incredulous and her eyes wide.

"For someone so desperate for clean clothes, you have no right to be picky. Yes, I'm going to steal. I am a pirate,after all; stealing is what I do best. So just give me your measurements, and I'll be on with it."

"My measurements?" she squeaked.

"Aye, your measurements. Hips, waist, breasts, I'll need all of it."

Emaline's cheeks flushed crimson at he way he so casually said the word breasts. The man really had no scruples at all. "Surely, you don't need my measurements. Can I not simply try things on?"

Jack looked dangerously close to slapping her. It never occurred to him that Emaline might be a bit self-conscious about giving exact proof to how large her hips were and how small her chest was. "We don't have time," he fairly ground out. "You have exactly three seconds to tell me before I completely abandon this idea and you go about naked for all I care. One, two,..."

"Hips- 99 cm. Waist-54 cm. Breasts- 83 cm." Emaline watched Jack's face, waiting for the look of disgust that was sure to follow her confession. He did not so much as blink. 

Jack strode over to the nearest tailor shop, and push the door open. He walked inside as Emaline followed close behind. Stopping near the front desk, he turned to face her.

"Stay right here, I'm going into the back store room. If for some reason someone comes in here, call my name as loud as you can. And if all else fails, use this." He handed her a pistol.

As soon as Jack had left the room, Emaline dropped the pistol as though it were a hot poker. She was deadly afraid of guns and swords, and violence of any kind was her abhorrence. Emaline was a firm believer that any quarrel could be worked out using words instead of violence, at least with normal people. However, she soon picked up the gun and cradled it nervously in her arms, for she had the sense to realize that pirates were not normal people, nor were they the type to settle for a simple verbal argument.

Jack returned shortly, a sack filled with clothing hoisted over his shoulder. He snorted, and then laughed out loud at the way Emaline was so tensely holding his pistol.

"It's not going to bite you, lass" he said, voice laced with the obvious humor he found in her situation.

Again, Emaline looked at him with hurt in her eyes. "You'll have to excuse me, I am terribly afraid of guns." Her polite, wounded voice made Jack feel a bit of a cad for laughing at her, but it quickly faded. Why shouldn't he laugh, it was not as though he cared about the prissy little brat's feelings.

"Well, if there's not anything else...." Jack let the sentence dangle, practically daring her to ask him for something. She simply shook her head, and prepared to follow him out the door.

They reached the docks shortly, and Emaline was treated to her first good look at the ship that was soon to be her home for the next few days. The _Black Pearl_ lived up to her name, for she was both sinister and lovely at the same time. Her masts were strong and tall, and her sails as black as charcoal. Engraved on her prow was the figure of a mermaid, with long hair that blew back from her face and arms that stretched out above her head to cup what appeared to be a dove. The ship was magnificent, and despite her fear, Emaline felt a rush of excitement flow through her vains.

As they reached the dock that led out to the Pearl, both Jack and Emaline realized that it was teeming with other pirates. To Jack this presented a rather difficult problem, and to Emaline it snapped the excitement from her sharp as a whip. As Jack was not a Gullah, the other pirates would see themselves fit to take from him whatever they pleased; namely, Emaline. He thought fast, and came back to his solution from earlier. They would not bother him if she appeared to be nothing more than a common whore, but the trick was going to be getting the girl to agree to it. Jack could not simply smash his lips against hers this time, Emaline would have to participate as well. It was not going to be very convincing, the girl was as innocent as a newborn babe, but it was the only shot they had. Once again, Jack cursed Capt. Foster to hell and back for making him involved in this mess.

He looked at the girl, sizing her up and deciding how much work had to be done. Emaline looked every bit a fine-bred lady; her dress was prim and proper, her hair was put up, and she was as timid as rabbit. Gods, this was going to be difficult. What he really needed was the girl she was earlier in the evening, the one who had screamed at him with such vehemence. But Jack knew that she was no more likely to give a repeat performance than he was to be named a Catholic saint.

It was Emaline who spoke first. "Capt. Sparrow, do have any notion of how we can reach your ship without being assaulted by those vile, dissolute creatures?"

Jack looked her square in the face, praying he might find some hint of passion in her eyes. He saw nothing but sweetness and quiet poise. "Aye, I have an idea, though I don't think it's going to be to your liking."

"Capt. Sparrow, you may rest assured that I desperately wish to leave this repulsive place as soon as possible, and am therefore open to any suggestions you have towards achieving that goal."

Damn, all her long words and perfect sentence structure gave him a headache. "Well, lass, I'm suggesting that we deprive you of your dress, take your hair down, and have you wrap your regal self around me, acting for all intents and purposes as the most wanton whore this island has to offer." Here Jack wildly threw out his arms, and grinned as though he was mad. " What do ya say?!"

He had his gaze pinned upon Emaline, waiting for her to meet his eyes and tell him that he was out of his mind and how dare he even think of her in such an impertinent manner. The moment never came. Keeping her eyes firmly fixed to the ground, she answered him. "I consent. Please, just tell me what do."

Jack could not believe his ears. She had agreed. Suddenly feeling very bad about what he was asking Emaline to do (though he knew that he was actually doing _her_ the favor and there truly was no other way), Jack decided that he would make the experience as unhumiliating as possible. 

He walked behind her and brought his hands to the fastenings of her dress. "I'm going to take your dress off, so don't fidget." Jack had no idea if she even heard him, she seemed so distant. "_Probably keeping herself as far away from what I'm doing to her as possible." _Slowly and carefully, he undid the laces and clasps that held the dress across her back, and slid it off her shoulders. He grabbed her hand to balance her, and she stepped out of the dress.

Emaline felt a warm pulse of something like pleasure resound in her body at the feel of his bare hand over hers. His hands were large, much larger than her own, and though rough and callused, they were quite clean. Slowly, she realized that she still held his hand even though the dress was off, and abruptly dropped it. Her dress tossed over his shoulder, Jack reached up and began pulling the pins from her hair. It tumbled down in heaps to cover her back, its rich bronze color contrasting sharply with the white of her undergarments.

Pins put into his pocket, Jack turned her around to look at him. With her hair down, and her dress noticeably absent, she looked much more average, though anyone who saw her close up would be daft if they mistook her for anything but nobility. Emaline simply had that air about her, the kind that screamed of money and honor. But fortunately for the both of them, no one would be close enough to get a good look at her. 

"Now, this next part is going to be a tad tricky. I want you to put your hands about my shoulders, and then jump up, wrapping your legs around my waist. I know this is a wee bit awkward for you, but you've gotta do it, savvy?" She nodded, and proceeded to climb up him as though he were a tree. It _was_ awkward, and took a good number of tries, but Emaline finally got herself into position.

Strange it was, being so close to a man. His body was flush against her own, and she felt lean, hard muscle rising and falling beneath her. Jack also smelled very foreign, his scent a mixture of rum, tobacco, and a bit of sandalwood. Emaline suddenly felt lightheaded, and a deliciously warm knot was forming deep in her belly. Unconsciously, she squirmed against him, gripping tighter with her legs and drawing her face into the crook of his neck. One of Jack's arms snaked across her back, and he held her to him tightly, crushing her breasts against his taught chest. 

"That's good, lass," Jack whispered into her neck, voice slightly husky. He was a man after all, and having the girl in such close proximity was having an effect on him. "That's very good. Just move your head a bit, so it looks like you be kissing my neck." Emaline moved her neck slightly side to side, but she took great care to keep her lips from even brushing his skin. He laughed inwardly, as her dedication to propriety made him remember the exact reason _why_ she was wrapped around him and the revelation dampened his arousal quite efficiently.

With the sack of clothes slung over his shoulder and Emaline about his waist, Jack walked up the dock, adopting even more of a drunken swagger for appearances sake. Whistles and catcalls followed in his wake, but no one lifted a finger to stop their progress. Once again, his ingenious if unorthodox plan had worked, and Jack was feeling mighty pleased with himself. Emaline however, was feeling no such elation. After the initial excitement of being in such a compromising position had worn off, she became extremely afraid, as well as angry at herself for behaving in such a prurient manner. Upon reflection, she was certain that another, far more appropriate way of reaching the boat could have been found, had Capt. Sparrow set his mind to it. The man was simply a lecher, and Emaline had given him a ready opportunity to take advantage of her. Although, she could think of far worse ways to be disgraced and defiled...

As soon as they reached the Pearl, Emaline nearly leapt from his arms. The instant her feet hit the floor, she scurried off. She was in a great hurry to be as far away from Capt. Sparrow as possible, but in her haste she accidentally slipped on a bit of fresh oakum that had been pounded into the wooden planking. However, before Emaline's head could attend its impromptu meeting with the hard deck, she felt a pair of wiry arms encircle her waist and hauled her upright. She turned around, anxious to see who had caught her, for she knew by the feel of the man's arms that they did not belong to Jack.  
Sparkling green eyes stared back into her own, even as the lad presented her with a polite smile. A mop of unruly blond curls adorned his head, though they were partially obscured from view by a dirty orange bandana, and a pair of twin silver loops pierced his ears. Stepping back to get a better look at him, Emaline saw that the boy could be no more than a few years her senior, for though his skin was rough and tan, he had no age lines creasing his face. He carefully helped her to regain balance, and being quite the gentleman, immediately released her waist.

"You'll be wantin' to be more careful, miss. These boards can be awful slick, especially if you be unused to them." He had a pleasant voice, soft and mellow; the lad was not at all what Emaline would have expected for a member of a pirate crew.

"Thank you, sir," she said gently.

"Aye, thankee Gabe. I'm sure the lady appreciates your concern," said Jack, appearing out of nowhere. "Now, kindly rouse the others and tell the mangy dogs to get up top and give our guest a proper welcome." Giving his captain a questioning look, Gabe nonetheless set off in search of his shipmates.

"A few words before he returns, lass," Jack said, pulling her off to the side. "I'm going to explain to me crew that you're to sail with us for a bit, and that no harm is to come to you while you be on this boat. However, a few of these men are not exactly known for keeping their promises, especially where the ladies are concerned. I suggest you stay clear of those who I don't specifically indicate as being trustworthy. After all, not all pirates are as gentlemanly as meself and Gabe, savvy?

Emaline merely looked at him, before nodding her head and softly mumbling under her breath.

"What's that? You'll have to speak up, lass, I sometimes tend to be hard of hearing." That was blatant lie, and she knew it, but Emaline felt strangely compelled to answer him. A gentlewoman always answers faithfully when asked to repeat herself.

"I said that I do not think you to be at all gentlemanly, Capt. Sparrow. I am exceedingly grateful for all of you assistance to me; however, I believe that you have taken advantage of my naivete. I am certain that you could have found another manner in which to deliver us safely to your ship, had you had maintaining my honor at the forefront of your thoughts." She said all of this quietly, her manner completely docile and unobtrusive. "I am neither condoning or chastising your decision, I am simply stating my opinion of the matter."

God, how Jack wished the girl would grow a damn backbone. She was going to seriously need one to survive this ordeal, for she could be spending weeks with himself and his crew before a suitable place to leave her will be found. It seemed that the fiery Ms. Darcy from earlier in the evening was gone forever, replaced by this meek, submissive creature. "_The lass must truly be ashamed of the way she behaved, either that or that outburst really was completely out of character for her. Most likely it's both, and that means that the chit ain't likely to make the same 'error' again."_ Well, she would have to learn some independence and confidence, one way or another. And meeting his crew would be an excellent way to start.


	7. Author's note

Author's Note: 

First and foremost, a HUGE thank-you to all my readers and reviewers who have embraced my story and offered invaluable advice. You guys are wonderful, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Now, I know that I haven't updated in a while, and I probably won't update anytime soon. I'm soooo sorry, but there is another story that had been banging around in my head, and simply refuses to go away. Everytime I try to write more of "Strange but Wonderful", this stubborn little plot bunny hops frantically around, and demands I pay attention to it. So, after weeks of refusing, I have finally decided to start the story up, and let "Strang but Wonderful" take a back seat. Once again, I'm really sorry, but I hope at least some of you will be interested in reading my new story, "Lucidi l'anima antiqua" (Shine the ancient blood).

This new "venture" into fan fiction is set in the Harry Potter universe, and looks like it's going to become a novel-length. It is a romance, but the pairing is Hermione/Snape, and I know that some people aren't particularly fond of those two together. However, let me assure you that this is neither a fluffy love story nor a twisted student-teacher relationship. Their relatioship is going to start devolping when Hermione is a student, but it will invovle so much more than just simple love and lust. There will action and adventure, as well as drama and angst, and believe me, things are going to become _complicated_.

For those of you interested, I'm going to give you a brief summary of what "Lucidi l'anima antiqua" will be about. Hermione Granger is going to be the first to discover that the key to defeating Voldermort does not lie with Harry Potter, but with Severus Snape. An ancient prophesy made before the founding of Hogwarts predicts the rise of a saviour in whose blood runs the blood of the four Hogwarts founders. Yet the blood of Salazar Slytherin shall run deepest of all, and so shall the saviour be distinguished. From the tainted soul of a man condemned shall emerge an awesome power, the only power able to defeat the Darkest of dark wizards. But such power comes with a price, and the savior must undergo unimaginable trials to obtain it…

Okay, I rambled on a bit, but you get the picture. As of now, the story is not yet posted, but I hope to have it up in a day of two. If any of you would take a look at it, I would greatly appreciate it. How well my new story is received may determine how soon I get back to "Strange but Wonderful", but I know for a fact the first three chapters of "Lucidi l'anima antiqua" will be written before I'll be able to start it up again. But don't worry, I _will _eventually get back to Jack and Emaline. Thanks again to all of my readers, and I'm sorry to make to wiat for an update. Oh, and please, please, please check out my new story!!!!!

Lots of love!!!!

Bubbletoes ~***~***~


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